


by proxy

by thisissirius



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Criminally Inept Ben Mitchell, Criminally Inept Stuart Highway, Failure To Commit Murder, M/M, Protect Callum "Halfway" Highway, Protective Ben Mitchell, Protective Stuart Highway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: or the four times ben and stuart try to kill thompson and the one time thompson dies by accident.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	by proxy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [finkpishnets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/gifts).



> written with the help of bobbie, who is MY partner in crime when it comes to ben and callum being the epitome of BE GAY, DO CRIME. 
> 
> had this idea this morning, did some brainstorming, ended up with this. enjoy?

**.a hit**

Ben learns from the Keanu drama.

When you put a hit on someone, you absolutely make sure of things.

  1. You do the hit yourself
    1. If you can’t, make it someone you trust
    2. Be there with them
      1. If you can’t, video call
  2. You make sure they can actually follow through
  3. Confirmation is legit
  4. Follow up



It’s not that he’s putting out a lot of hits on people, at least not now he’s promised Callum he’s at least trying to be better, but then Thompson happens, and Ben thinks he’s justified in a little bit of murder by proxy. 

The revelation of Callum’s secret attempts to take down Phil means that Ben’s gotta make a choice. Father or boyfriend. In the end, it’s not so much of a choice. There is, after all, that one time Ben stood on a ship, held a gun to Phil’s head, and said, “for Callum, I would.”

That’s not changed, especially not because Phil’s decided he’s a worthy choice of son now that Keanu’s gone. 

So, when Callum says, “I have to tell you something,” Ben’s mind runs through a million scenarios and comes up with, “I’ll fix everything.”

Stuart Highway isn’t Ben’s first choice for many things, but when it comes to protecting Callum, he can trust Stuart with that above anyone else. Except himself, obviously. 

“Thompson,” Ben says, apropos nothing when he walks into the flat. 

Stuart stares at him. “You know?”

Okay. What? “What?”

Pacing the length of the living room, Stuart rubs at the back of his head. “It was an accident, I just wanted to scare him, only he wasn’t actually dead—”

“Stuart, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Stuart pauses. “You mean—what did you mean when you said Thompson?”

“That he’s fucking over Callum—”

“—I know that—” 

“—and we need to do something about it—”

“—Count me in—” 

“—What did _you_ mean.” 

Stuart shrugs. “Nothing. Just that.”

“Stuart.”

“Okay fine,” Stuart says. “Look, I knew about Callum alright,” and that is definitely something he and Ben will talk about later, “so I thought I’d just do something about it.”

And fail, he doesn’t say, but Ben can put two and two together and make a disaster. 

“So this time we don’t fail,” Ben says. 

Stuart smiles. 

The hit goes something like this;

“So my mate Clifty knows this guy right, and he said he’d do the job.”

“Alright.” Ben sits back on the couch, thumbing through his bank account info. He can spare the cash and besides, it’s for Callum. “How much does he want?”

“Five k,” Stuart says. At Ben’s look, he holds up his hands. “It’s a murder, Ben, what do you want him to say?”

“I suppose it ain’t that much under the circumstances.” Ben sighs. It’ll mean a chunk goes out of his make-dad-pay fund. Maybe Lexi’s Christmas will be a little tighter, but she’ll have to deal. If she can’t, he’ll say it was for Daddy Callum’s benefit and that’ll be that. Callum is, after all, her favourite person who isn’t a parent. 

“Ben,” Stuart says, and it’s obvious he’s been saying it for a while. Right, the hit. 

“Yeah,” Ben says, putting an edge in his tone. Wouldn’t do to let Stuart know where his thoughts have turned. “Listen, I’ll pay it, but here’s the way we do this—”

So Clifty gets them the number of this guy—Jugs—and honestly, what the fuck kind of name is Jugs anyway?—who is glad to do it for the four thousand Ben offers him instead. They lay out the plan, send him all the info on Thompson, then Ben wires the money and waits for the video call. 

That never comes. 

“What the fuck is taking so long?” Ben glares down at his phone as if it’s got all the answers. 

Stuart calls Clifty who laughs down the phone. “Run, ain’t he? You didn’t give him all the money?”

Ben pauses. 

Stuart curses under his breath. 

“You guys have gotta get better at this,” Clifty admonishes and hangs up. 

Ben amends the hit rules; 

  1. You do the hit yourself
    1. If you can’t, make it someone you trust
    2. Be there with them
      1. If you can’t, video call
    3. DON’T GIVE THEM ALL THE FUCKING MONEY AT ONCE



  
  


**.a gun**

Callum’s standing on the doorstep. “Can I come in?”

“You don’t have to ask,” Ben says, giving him a funny look. 

“I didn’t think you’d wanna see me,” Callum admits, looking so sad Ben wants to punch someone, preferably himself, in the face. “After all that stuff I said.”

Ben sighs, steps into Callum’s space. Callum instinctively places his hands on Ben’s neck and yeah, that’s just the way Ben likes it. “I said I’d fix it and I will,” Ben promises. He leans in when Callum does, eyes slipping closed as they kiss. This is something he’s clearly never gonna tire of. 

(Thompson’s threatening this, threatening Callum, and he and Stuart clearly need to come up with something else soon.)

“I love you,” Callum says, tentatively. 

“‘Course you do,” Ben grins, and delights in the way Callum laughs. 

When Callum leaves for work, he kisses Ben again and says, “Thompson’s apparently on the street this afternoon so be careful, yeah?”

Ben says some nonsensical thing about doing whatever he needs to, enough to get Callum out the door, because his mind is on something else; Thompson’s gonna be on the street, away from Callum, which means Callum won’t have to be a part of anything. 

Pulling out his phone, Ben dials for Stuart. 

“I’m busy,” Stuart says, sounding breathless. 

Ben makes a mental note to bleach his brain. “Why you answering your phone?”

“You figured something else out?” Stuart says instead of replying. Rainie says something in the background and Ben wants to cry, hang up, or murder someone. 

“Just meet me in the square in half an hour.”

“Plenty of time,” Rainie says, clearer, and Ben does hang up then. 

That’s three minutes he’s never getting back. 

Half an hour later, Stuart comes across the square grinning like an idiot, and Ben mimes retching. 

“Whatever,” Stuart says, shoving Ben’s shoulder. “Like you’ve never—” 

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Ben says, because if there’s one thing he doesn’t ever wanna do, it’s discuss his sex life with Callum with Callum’s _brother_. “So I know how to get a gun.”

Stuart straightens, all business. “You ever shot one before?”

“Yeah,” Ben says, and thinks of that boat again, and the empty gun he shot at Billy. Ben doesn’t have to ask if Stuart has, remembers the fiasco about him shooting himself. “So which of us is it gonna be me?”

“It should be me,” Stuart says. “If you haven’t shot one—” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t,” Ben protests. “I held one to my dad’s head!”

“But didn’t fire it, did ya? Maybe we wouldn’t be here if you had.”

“What the fuck,” Ben starts, and takes a step towards Stuart. 

“Listen,” Stuart says, holding up his hands. “This isn’t helping Callum.”

“Fine,” Stuart says. “Can you do this?”

Ben doesn’t say he can’t, but Stuart reads it on his face. 

Stuart nods and the decision is made. 

Later, Ben wonders if he should have asked after Stuart’s aim. 

Thompson is in the square; he’s throwing his weight around, and more than once, Ben catches Jack staring at Thompson, brow furrowed, as if he knows something’s not right. Not that Ben’s gonna say anything to _him_ about what’s going on with Callum. What kind of copper doesn’t notice Callum being bullied and beaten right under his nose?

“Oi,” Stuart says. “You ready?”

Ben sighs. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in hiding, idiot.”

“Then stop staring off into space,” Stuart says. “You’re supposed to cover for me.”

“Go,” Ben presses. 

It’s the best time to make something happen; the square’s packed with people. They’re spilling out of the market and out of the pub because it’s Christmas and everyone likes a good booze up. The perfect time to shoot someone is when there’s too many people around to pick anyone out of the crowd.

Thompson’s standing out the front of the Queen Vic, having a heated discussion with Mick. Ben’s watching so intently that he’s startled when the gun fires. The bullet hits one of the gaudy bells hanging outside the pub, inches from Thompson’s head.

A cheer rises up, music filtering out of the pub windows, celebrating like it’s some stunt of Mick and Linda’s, but Ben’s watching Thompson’s face. The slow drag from the bell, across the street, to meet Ben’s eyes. Ben smiles brightly, even while he’s cursing inwardly. 

“You told me you could shoot,” he admonishes Stuart later. 

Stuart hands over the gun—still loaded—and shrugs. “Didn’t know I couldn’t aim, alright? I was shooting myself last time.”

“Maybe we take this out of the square,” Ben says eventually. 

  
  
  


**.a car**

“Where you off to?”

“Out,” Ben says, trying not to look shifty. He’s not sure he’s any good at it, but he’s trying, and therefore should get points for that. “What about you?”

Callum smiles at him. 

“Stop doing that,” Ben says. 

“What?” Callum doesn’t stop smiling. 

Putting one knee against the couch, Ben leans over and kisses Callum. “Looking so happy, otherwise I won’t leave.”

Callum huffs a laugh against Ben’s lips, one of his hands sliding down Ben’s back. Okay whatever, it’s not like Ben’s gotta leave right this minute. “Terrible.”

“Uh-huh,” Ben agrees, closing his eyes against the kiss. Callum’s really good at it, is all. All pressure and softness, a dichotomy Ben can really appreciate, and is melting against Callum’s body when his phone rings. 

Callum shifts against him but nope, Ben doesn’t care. 

His phone keeps ringing and Ben growls under his breath, growls, “go away,” into the phone, but before he can hang up, Stuart replies with, “Get a car.”

Distracted by Callum’s lips on his neck, Ben frowns. “What?”

“Get a car,” Stuart says again. “I know where Thompson’s gonna be this afternoon.”

Ben sighs, pulls back from Callum. “Fine,” he says and hangs up. “Sorry, Cal, I gotta go.”

Callum strokes a hand through Ben’s hair. “Was that my brother on the phone?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Ben grouses. “Why would I be calling your brother?”

When no reply is forthcoming, Ben climbs off the sofa, unable to resist leaning down for another kiss. Callum sighs against him, smiles softly when they part. “I’ll see you later?”

“You cooking me dinner?” Ben asks, smiling.

Callum rolls his eyes. “Maybe. If I’m feeling nice.”

“You’re always feeling nice.” That’s the whole point of this stuff with Thompson. 

Getting a car is easier; he owns a car lot, after all, and what’s the point of having one of those if he can’t fudge the books a little, get a car that’s less than stellar but up to the doing job of a hit and run, and make sure Jay never finds out. 

Stuart’s hanging out by the side of a nondescript road when Ben finally follows his ridiculous directions. 

“Where is he?” Ben asks, pulling up alongside Stuart. 

“There’s some sort of raid happening down the road,” Stuart says, leaning in the passenger window. “We take the car up there, do a quick drive by, we’ll both be home in time for dinner.”

Ben waits only long enough to let Stuart buckle in and then starts the car. 

Or attempts to. It rattles, engine sputtering and failing to rumble to life. 

“Come on,” Stuart says. “Start the thing.”

“I’m trying,” Ben snaps. “Piece of—”

Stuart’s staring at him. “Why’d you pick one that doesn’t run?”

“I picked the best one on the lot that doesn’t have a connection, Stuart, what the fuck—” 

Looking at his phone, Stuart curses. “If we don’t move soon, it’ll be done and we’ll miss our chance.”

“Well, if you wanna find a car at short notice, then be my guest and—”

The car finally rumbles to life and Ben sighs in relief, immediately skidding out back onto the road. Stuart’s staring at his phone, muttering something Ben doesn’t care to hear, and they find the house where the raid is taking place. 

Or was taking place. 

“Did you even get the time right?”

“Yeah,” Stuart says, voice pitched a little too high. “Wait, no, this isn’t the right road!”

Ben barely resists the urge to strangle Stuart. “Where is it then?”

“Uh, just a couple of streets over. We’ve still got time!”

Unless the car once again gives out on them. 

“It wasn’t my fault,” Ben says, when the two of them traipse into the square two hours later. 

“Well it ain’t mine either,” Stuart says. 

They have a stare down, right there outside the Queen Vic, and it’s where Callum finds them. 

“Everything alright?” 

“Yep,” Ben and Stuart say almost in unison. 

Glaring at him, Stuart claps Callum on the shoulder. “Sorry, bruv, but I gotta get back to Rainie,” he says, and disappears. 

“So,” Callum says, because he’s learning when Ben’s bullshitting and Ben’s proud of him for it. It doesn’t help Ben any, but he can proud. “What were you two up to?”

“Sorting your Christmas,” Ben says, which isn’t really a lie. 

What better gift to get Callum than to murder Thompson and protect him?

  
  
  


**.the thames**

“Got the rope,” Stuart says, dumping it on the kitchen table. 

“What is wrong with you,” Ben grits out, shoving it into the cupboard just as Callum walks in. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” Callum says slowly, looking between them. “Is this about my Christmas present again?”

“Your what?” Stuart says. 

“Yes,” Ben says, slightly louder, just to be heard over Stuart. Callum’s got a thing when it comes to Ben’s deafness and if Stuart says anything, Ben knows he’ll kick off. Smiling at Stuart, who knows it too, he steps into Callum,’s space, kisses him. “You going out today?”

Callum nods, winces. “Thompson wants to meet later.”

Ben and Stuart exchange a look over Callum’s shoulder. Ben pats Callum’s chest. “It’ll be alright.”

“I wish I was as confident,” Callum says.

Fisting his hand in Callum’s shirt, Ben tugs Callum down, bites at his bottom lip, kisses him hard. Stuart’s looking everywhere but at them, and that inspires Ben to slide a hand down to Callum’s ass, grabbing it. 

“Stop it.” Callum laughs gently, shoving Ben away. “I’ll be late.”

“Alright,” Ben says, but leans in, breath ghosting over Callum’s ear, “I’ll save it for later.”

“Promises,” Callum says, but his eyes are dark, and his lips are red. Ben knows how he’ll be spending the evening. 

When he’s gone, and Stuart’s done looking sick—like he’s one to talk—Ben takes the rope back out. “So we take him out to the Thames.”

“Dump him in,” Stuart agrees. “Then we’re done with this for good.”

Ben doesn’t know why they didn’t go for drowning the first time. It’s the obvious solution. 

Grabbing Thompson proves the harder part, but when he catches sight of Stuart, he stupidly follows him into an alley. Stuart’s long gone of course, and Ben waits for Thompson’s string of curses to lapse before he clobbers him over the head with a wrench. Not so hard, then. 

“Right,” Stuart says, when he’s finished tying him up. “Let’s finish this and get it over with.”

For Callum, Ben thinks as they heft him onto a bridge, out of sight of anyone passing by. 

For Callum, he thinks, as they watch the body fall into the water.

For Callum, he almost says, but then sees the ropes come bobbing to the surface, and a moment later, Thompson’s head breaks the waves. 

“You idiot,” Ben says, grabbing for Stuart and legging it across the bridge. “Did you even tie them together at all?”

“I’m not a Boy Scout,” Stuart protests. “I don’t know how to tie ropes!”

Ben will kill him later. For now, they need to get the hell back home and make out they’d never left. 

  
  
  


**.callum**

When they get back to the Square, it’s a couple of hours later. It’s a Saturday, and of course their Tube line has work going on, so they get a bus back which takes way too long.

“We’re going down for this,” Stuart says.

“Shut up,” Ben hisses, only to clam up when they find police outside Stuart’s. 

People are muttering as Ben and Stuart push their way through. 

Jack’s holding down the line, and when he catches Stuart’s eye, Stuart plows ahead. 

“What happened? Is Rainie okay? Callum?”

Holding up his hands, Jack looks at Ben. “Everything’s fine. Someone just fell down the stairs and we’re trying to clear it up.”

“What,” Ben starts. 

“Did someone die?”

There’s a patch of blood on the stone at the bottom of the steps, and Ben feels sick. If it’s Callum, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. 

“It’s fine,” Jack says again, and there’s the familiar expression Ben’s come to know and love to hate. “It’s a copper, so it has to be investigated, but it was an accident.”

“What,” Ben says again, and this time Stuart echoes him. 

“Find Callum,” Jack says, when his name is called by a uniform. “I have to finish up here.”

Ben and Stuart both rush back to Ben’s, to find Callum and Rainie in the kitchen drinking tea. 

“Cal,” Ben says, dragging Callum out of his chair and into a hug. Callum looks stricken, his face wet, and he stares down at Ben. “What happened?”

“Thompson fell down the stairs,” Callum says. 

The world comes to a grinding halt.

“What did you say?” Stuart and Ben exchange a look. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Callum rushes to say, words tripping over themselves as he looks from Ben to Stuart to Rainie. “I had Lexi’s presents at yours, Stuart, and I was carrying them out of the flat when he’s coming up the stairs. I didn’t know anyone was there and threw open the door and he just went—”

Of fucking course. 

Ben rolls his eyes heavenward, sees Callum’s face fall, and immediately rushes to kiss him. “It’s alright, Callum. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t,” Callum says, his voice muffled by Ben’s shirt. Ben rests a hand on the back of his head, kisses his temple. 

Stuart and Rainie are having a hushed conversation of their own. Ben hears, “tried to kill him again,” from Stuart, and then he and Rainie are pushing their way upstairs and oh no, Ben is not having that in his house. 

Except for how Stuart and Rainie don’t have a house to go to because Callum—

“You killed someone,” Ben breathes. 

“I just had so many presents,” Callum says, gesturing at the pile of bags sitting by the door. There’s tons, more than Ben and Lola combined probably, and Ben finds himself staring at Callum. “I saw these ballet shoes, and these cool dinosaurs I thought she’d like because I’m trying not to be gender specific and—”

“Callum,” Ben says, hands on Callum’s chest. “I love you.”

Callum’s cheeks go pink, but he still looks devastated. “I killed someone.”

“Yeah, you did,” Ben says, hears his own voice is husky and low. He leans in, kisses Callum hard. “I heard you the first time.”

“You can’t,” Callum starts, but Ben never hears what he can’t, because Callum’s voice tapers off into a groan. Ben’s good with his tongue—or so Callum’s told him before—and he puts it to good use, both to distract Callum from thinking about Thompson, but also because Callum _killed_ someone, bought Lexi presents, and loves Ben so much. 

“I love you,” Ben says again. 

Callum slides a hand under Ben’s shirt, fingers tracing his spine. “I love you too.”

Ben knows that, of course. They kiss until Ben’s lips are numb, and Callum’s breathing is heavy enough that Ben wonders if Callum could get off just kissing him. He knows it wouldn’t take much for _him_ if they’re kissing.

When he leans in for another kiss, Callum presses a hand to his chest. “Wait, we can’t with Rainie and Stuart.” Who are being noisy and Ben tries not to throw up. “Let me show you what I got Lexi.”

“Only if you marry me,” Ben says, because he has to. 

Callum laughs, rolling his eyes and one day Ben’s gonna be serious, but for now he tries not to think about what’s going on upstairs, or the statement Callum’s going to have to give, and focuses on the presents that mean he doesn’t have to upset Lexi this Christmas after all. 

Ben and Stuart have also managed to protect Callum so it’s a win all around. 

Thompson wouldn’t have been on the square if it wasn’t for them, after all, so they’re indirectly responsible for his death. 

A by proxy murder is still a murder. 


End file.
